Deja Vu
by Toxic Emotion
Summary: Sequel to "Help me Remember." Want an interesting twist? Take a vaccine named Thrax who hates his life, a white blood cell determined to get revenge, and an unlikely unwanted alliance. Add another deadly virus, a girl with no past, and a...cat? *Shrug* Stir well; just don't get too close to Shane as disaster strikes. You might just catch something.
1. Surprise!

**So this is the beginning of my sequel to "Help me Remember." Thanks to LuluCalliope for the support all through the writing and revising of my first story! I hope this lives up to your expectations! :)**

* * *

**(Thrax)**

Leaning against the wall in an alley, I sighed and closed my eyes. It was my "lunch" break, although I really only needed the break part. I was tired of the citizens of Shane; they gawked at me, hid their children, glared at me. _This wasn't what I had in mind when I decided to become a vaccine in the first place. But what _did_ I expect; that everyone would smile and wave at the friendly neighborhood virus?_ I shook my head, disgusted by my own naivete.

At least I was finally trusted enough to wander around alone on break. Not that I did much wandering; standing alone in a secluded area, hiding from the distrusting eyes, was pretty much normal for me. _I_'_m not even myself anymore,_ I thought disgustedly_. _But the solitude was nice, after dealing with my "partner"; the officer assigned to work with me pointedly ignored me, except for the occasional dirty look. Just to remind me (again) that I wasn't welcome in Shane. They didn't know how lucky they were that I had Tibia to think about; if I didn't have a constant reminder in the back of my mind that she would be disgusted with me, the entire city would be a burnt rubble pile already.

After a while of standing there alone, I sighed and reluctantly started to walk back to the ugly police cruiser I was forced to ride in; my break was over. My "partner"-Phil or something-was already waiting in the car, staring straight ahead. He didn't turn his head as I opened the door and got in the car. _I'm pretty much used to being hated by now, but at least before there was a reason for it,_ I thought in irritation. _And there was some excitement back then to make up for it. _Without a word, Phil-or-something started the engine and started driving. I wasn't sure where we were supposed to go, and I didn't ask; we never spoke to each other.

I looked out the window, bored as usual with my new life. For the hundredth time, I wondered why I came. _As much as Shane obsessively washes her hands, we never get any germs to deal with anyway. _Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a white blood cell lounging against a wall. Almost dismissing him as a local, I started to look away. But the eyes that glared at me from his shadowed face were familiar. A little too familiar, even. _Wait, what's he doing here?_ I wondered, twisting around to get a second look. But the cell was gone. Phil gave me a quizzical look; obviously he hadn't seen what I had. "I thought I saw…someone I knew," I explained; half to the cell in the car next to me, half to myself. _He's not even there. Much more of this, and I'm going to lose my mind. _I didn't even know what I meant by "this." Everything, probably.

As we pulled into an alley, I decided to break our month-long silence. "What exactly is the point of this?" I inquired, not expecting an answer.

But after a long moment, Phil actually spoke! "It's called we're supposed to check this place out." As we stepped out of the car, he pointed his thumb in the direction of one of the buildings across the street. "It's supposedly abandoned, but the neighbors say they think there are squatters in there." The building looked pretty much like all of the others in the neighborhood; clean and very well-maintained.

"Yippee; because dragging the homeless people out of empty houses is such an important job," I muttered sarcastically to myself. I didn't add the _Congratulations on your first words, _part. Phil rolled his eyes, but I thought I saw the corners of his mouth lift for a split-second. _Let's see, what have I accomplished in one month as a vaccine? Well, I made someone smile. Yay for me. _My "partner" insisted on opening the door, as usual; he wanted to look like he was the leader. To me, the house looked empty. There was nothing on the floor, no lights were on, blah blah, et cetera. As we climbed the stairs, the cell in front of me switched on a flashlight. I smirked at him; I didn't need the extra light.

The upstairs was the same story as downstairs. Empty. "Well, I guess there are no squatters in here after all. Now we can get back to falling asleep at the police station while we wait for something to happen…emphasis on wait," I said. But right as I finished, there was a noise downstairs; someone was opening the door. I could hear footsteps approaching the stairs.

"Quick! Let's, um…wait in this bathroom until they come up," Phil suggested. _That's really original, baby. What're you doing on the Immunity force when you would make such a good war strategist?_ I rolled my eyes, but the cell didn't notice. With a quiet sigh, I followed him into the bathroom as the stairs began to creak; whoever was in the house was coming up, as predicted. The footsteps continued until they were right outside the bathroom door, and then turned. "They must have gone in the bedroom," the cell next to me whispered.

It was silent in the bedroom. Empty. Phil walked over to the closet, gun drawn, to check if anyone was hiding inside it. Not finding anything, he motioned toward the door; he was going to check other rooms. I nodded and indicated that I was staying. I began to walk toward the bed—the only piece of furniture that had been left behind, for whatever reason—when a streak of blue suddenly shot out from under it and hit me hard in the chest. Caught off guard, I fell back with an angry shout. Before I could stand back up, my attacker was back, throwing their fists at my face. They managed to land one punch before I knocked them to the side and stood up, touching my eye gingerly where they had hit me; it hadn't been gentle. "Who—"

Jones.

"You're kidding me." I chuckled, unable to help myself. Old habits _must_ die hard, if he came all the way here to fight me when I wasn't even a threat to Frank anymore. "Jones, baby; what's up?" I deflected another punch with the palm of my hand. "Careful, Jones; attacking a vaccine can get you in trouble." I couldn't help but mock him; like I said, old habits die hard. Finally, I kicked him in the stomach and he fell back with a gasp.

The pure hatred in Jones' eyes as he looked up at me was unnerving. Not because I was scared of him—I wasn't, of course—but there was so much more loathing in his eyes than there had been any other time he'd seen me. Like this was suddenly personal for him. As he got up and tried to attack me again, I started to get annoyed. Pushing Jones up against the wall by his throat, I growled, "Have you lost your mind?" He struggled to breathe, clawing at my hand uselessly. I didn't let him go until he stopped thrashing around.

Jones collapsed on the ground, gasping and rubbing his neck. "I honestly don't know anymore!" he finally shouted in answer to my question. "But I really don't have time to think about it right now; I'm too busy getting ready to _kill_ you!" _Well, he's persistent, I'll give him that,_ I grumbled irritably in my head as he once again stood up. But this time, he pulled a gun from under his jacket. Unable to reach him to knock it out of his hand, I froze instead; at this close range, even he could manage to put a bullet in me. And that might ruin my day a little.

I could hear the stairs creaking again; Jones heard it too. He hastily hid the gun back under his jacket right before Phil burst into the room. For the first time, I was actually glad to see him. "Oh, good; you found him," he said casually, as if I hadn't been seconds away from getting shot. My gratefulness faded a bit; I knew he'd heard the fighting, but he didn't acknowledge it.

As the officer approached him with a pair of handcuffs, Jones backed up. "Whoa, wait a minute. What're those for?" He pulled out his Immunity badge; I could have sworn he smirked at me as he did.

Looking surprised, Phil (who I'd already decided was a moron) put his handcuffs away sheepishly, starting to apologize. "Wait, what are you doing?" I demanded. Jones should have been cuffed by now.

"Well, I can't just cuff an officer of Frank, can I?" my "partner" told me, looking at me like I was an idiot. He turned away, not noticing the scowl on my face. To Jones, he said, "We still need to take you to the station—not to arrest you, just to let em' know you're here. That okay?" At the okay from Jones, my scowl deepened. It didn't help when he turned to smirk at me after my "partner" turned and walked away. _I'm not here to kill people,_ I reminded myself. _Unfortunately..._I added, flexing my claw; it glowed orange with my frustration.

Before Jones could leave, I grabbed him roughly by the arm. "What're you doing here?" I hissed at him. I hadn't gotten a chance to ask before; I'd been too busy keeping him off me. "Are you here because of me?"

Turning toward me, Jones replied in an angry tone, "Did you really think that after what you've done, I would leave you alone? I will _never _forgive you for taking Tibia away from me."

"What?" I blinked, hoping I'd misunderstood what he meant. "No. She survived with the rest of you," I said.

Jones snorted incredulously, but I could see the pain in his eyes; he was trying to hide it. "No, Thrax. She's dead; burned alive—" his voice broke. "Burned alive because of you."

_She's dead; burned alive because of you._

_ Dead…because of me._


	2. Enemies on the Same Team

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Maybe it hasn't been that long, but it felt like it. Anyway, I blame this darn writer's block! *pulls out hair* Ugh! I know where I want the story to go, but I don't know how to get there. :'( ****Don't feel too bad for me, though. I'll figure it out. I'm just worried it's not very good... *sigh***

**I hope you like it, though!**

* * *

(Ozzy)

I tugged my arm loose from Thrax's grip and stormed out of the room. I'_m not going to lose it in front of this guy,_ I vowed to myself. Even though it had been a month since Tibia died, I had never said the words out loud. It hurt me more than ever; saying it made it more real, more irreversible.

There were no footsteps behind me; I glanced over my shoulder to see if Thrax was following. But he was sitting on the bed, a mixture of shock and pain on his face. Turning around, I growled at him, "Cut the act! It's a little late to pretend that she actually meant something to you." Thrax snapped his head up at that. Before I had time to respond, he had me by the throat.

"You don't know _anything_, Jones!" he shouted in my face as I tried to free myself. Roughly, he threw me to the ground and stalked past me angrily.

I rubbed my neck. "You like doing that, don't you?" I asked the empty room. I could hear Thrax's footsteps on the lower floor before I even stood up. _Either he's a really good actor, or he's actually mad. _I considered it as I walked down the steps. _Probably the first one._ His face was a mask of calmness as we walked out the door of what I had adopted as my temporary home. No one said anything; not even Thrax's partner, who had no clue how much Thrax and I hated each other. He probably didn't even know we knew each other, for that matter.

We all got in the police car without a word. The silence lasted until we pulled up in front of the police station. Finally, I asked nervously, "So this is just routine, right? I'm not in any kind of trouble, am I?"

Thrax's partner shook his head with an amused smile as Thrax grumbled something like, "You should be." That earned him a glare from me and the other Immunity. _They don't seem too close,_ I noted as we walked into the building. I thought of Drix and sighed quietly; I regretted leaving without him.

"Wait here," Thrax's partner told me, indicating some chairs lined up against the wall. I sat in one; Thrax stood off to the side, looking uneasy around Immunity cells for the first time since I'd met him. I scanned the groups of Immunity cells, all joking and talking to each other, completely ignoring Thrax. Well, except for the occasional glance thrown his way. Despite myself, I realized I had been wrong before; he wasn't trusted here. _I don't care, _I reminded myself irritably.

After about ten minutes of sitting in the chair, I was getting impatient. _What am I waiting for, anyway?_ I wondered, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. I held back a yawn. It had been a long time since I'd gotten a good night's sleep; every time I drifted off, the same nightmare haunted me. _Tibia burning; I could see her face through the flames. She looked at me and asked, "Why didn't you save me?" before her image disappeared with the flames. I was alone again, in the dark. _

A voice came through speakers on the wall, shaking me out of my thoughts. "We have several germs entering through a skinned elbow; all officers report to the area immediately!" Unsure what to do, I stood up as all of the Immunity cells grabbed their things and went out the door. Thrax followed behind all of them, and I thought I was alone in the previously packed room. _Should I go help?_

My question was answered for me; a tough-looking female Immunity dashed out of a room in the back and shouted at me, "What're you doing? Get out there!" She obviously mistook me for one of Shane's cells. With a shrug, I followed her. She motioned for me to get in the cruiser with her when she saw that I was alone. She drove with the others to the skinned elbow without saying a word. It wasn't pretty; there were dozens of germs in the area. They could easily push back the few Immunities on patrol, and they were. There were some wounded officers on the ground already.

In a way, it felt good to be back on someone's team again, besides my own. It had been so long since I'd actually gone to work (I probably didn't even have a job anymore) that I'd almost forgotten what working with people felt like. Already, the group of Immunities I was in was pushing back the germs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thrax a couple of times; he was actually doing some good…for once. Although I noticed that he killed one of the germs instead of arresting them, but whatever. At least he wasn't killing the cops.

When all of the germs were cuffed—or dead, thanks to Thrax—the cops patted each other on the back, exchanging praises and laughing. Except Thrax and me, that is. But the mood darkened when the same officer I had ridden with demanded their attention; she didn't have good news. "The sudden attack caused quite a few casualties; many of the patrol cells have been injured, some killed. Phil is gone, as well." Thrax, standing to the side of the rest of the group, raised an eyebrow slightly. That was his only response, but it was more than I would have expected from him.

The officer stepped back from the group and walked toward her cruiser, passing me on the way. She stopped, studying me. "Are you even on the squad? You don't look familiar."

"I'm Osmosis Jones, an Immunity officer of Frank—" I began, but I was interrupted before I could continue.

The officer patted me on the shoulder roughly. "Welcome to the team. You're with him."

"Uh, thanks," I said before I realized who she was pointing at; Thrax. "Wait, say what now?" _What are the odds?_ I groaned mentally.

What's-her-face ignored my objection. "Hey, virus boy! I got you a new partner." Thrax looked up curiously; when he saw me, his eyes narrowed.

Thrax moved quickly; suddenly, he was in my face. "What is the point of this, Jones?" he hissed at me. "Haven't you caused me enough trouble for one lifetime?"

"Hey, don't blame me! Do you really think I like this anymore than you do?" I shot back, pushing him away from me.

I looked to the female officer for support, hoping she would change her mind. But she just smirked. "Well, I can see that you two already know each other; saves me the trouble of introducing you. Have fun with the new job, Jones." Before I could say anything, she turned and continued toward her cruiser. With an exasperated sigh, I looked at Thrax; there was an expression of disgust on his face. I assumed the same look was on mine.

"Just because we're 'partners' now doesn't mean I won't kill you," I warned Thrax before I turned away. _There is no way I'm gettin' in a car with that thing. I think I'll walk._

I realized suddenly I didn't have a place to stay anymore. _I guess I'll just figure something out. _I had a lot of things to figure out besides where I was going. For one thing, what would I do about Thrax? I wasn't going to give up on getting revenge. But if we were supposed to be working together…I sighed.

More than anything, I had to figure out what I was going to do with my life. Everything was falling apart.


	3. Inner War

(Thrax)

I wanted to break things, set everything on fire. But instead, I sat motionless at the small table in my kitchen; my head was in my hands while I thought. There was too much. Looking at my reflection in the drinking glass on the table in front of me, I admitted it. _I hate this place, my job, my apartment. And now Tibia's gone! And it's all my fault. Everything! _I stood up and picked the glass up off the table and threw it at the wall, watching it shatter. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. _And Jones definitely isn't helping._ With a sigh, I glanced down at the pieces of glass on the floor. Without bothering to clean it up, I walked slowly to the small bedroom. All I wanted then—that I could possibly have—was a dreamless sleep. But as usual, it was too much to ask for.

* * *

It was the same nightmare that still haunted me sometimes. My claw was stuck in the false eyelash as it fluttered down toward the beaker of alcohol. I shouted, angry but afraid to die at the same time. The eyelash hit the liquid, turning brittle. Even in my sleep, I could feel the burn of it as it touched my hand and seeped through my skin. I finally broke free of the brittle lash and leaped for the crack on the side of the glass-the one that had saved me seven months ago. But even as I jumped, I knew I wasn't going to make it. Looking up one last time, I saw someone I never expected to see again-Tibia. She reached for my hand to help, but lost her balance as she pulled me up.

I had to watch helplessly as she fell into the liquid and dissolved. Jones was on the edge of the glass suddenly, too. He opened his mouth to shout at me, but the only sound was a cat-like _meow._

* * *

I sat up, confused. The mewing sound was coming from the other side of my apartment door. It was accompanied by a scratching noise and pitiful yowling sounds. _How did a cat even get into the building? _I wondered irritably. I closed my eyes and ignored it, hoping it would go away. For a moment there was silence; then the noise started again, but louder. "Are you kidding me?" I growled as I stood up. There was an orange speckled cat waiting at the door of my apartment when I opened it. "Get—" the cat slipped past me into my living room. When I turned around, it was licking its paw. It looked up at me for a moment with what I could have sworn was an amused expression. "Out," I finished.

The cat simply blinked at me without any fear, no judgement. "I'm a virus. Hello!" The cat purred, not registering what I'd said. "It's a cat," I told myself. "I'm crazy." I covered my face with my hand.

I felt something against my leg. The cat was rubbing against it, looking up at me with its yellow eyes. "Do you have a home?" There was no collar, but it looked well fed and groomed. I sighed; what was I going to do with a cat? But it looked pretty intent on staying, curled up on my couch with its eyes closed. "Do you have a name?" I paused. "Wait, am I seriously talking to a cat?" The cat opened its eyes and mewed once; _yes.__  
_

There was a knock on my door. "What now?" I grumbled as I looked through the small peephole.

Two girls were standing in front of my door; a red blood cell and a white blood cell. "Would you mind—" the red blood cell began.

"Sorry, babe. Not interested," I told her, turning away from the door.

For a moment, there was silence. Then the other girl's voice piped up, "Would you just listen for a second?" she cried exasperatedly. "We're looking for a cat; her name is Ginger." I glanced back at the cat lying on my couch. She blinked at me slowly. _Ginger, huh?_

"Sorry, babe. I haven't seen your cat," I lied. I didn't know why I wanted Ginger to stay; maybe out of spite for the way the girl had spoken. But still…it would be nice to have a companion. "I'll find you if she shows up." Of course, I didn't know who these girls were, let alone where they lived, but I wasn't planning on giving their cat back anyway. As I looked through the peephole again, I saw the two look at each other and shrug before walking away without a word. "Good," I mumbled. Except…

_No, I'm just thinking about it too much._ _That girl definitely did not sound anything like Tibia_. Besides, she had short brown hair, not long red hair. And there was the fact that Tibia was dead, anyway. Ginger hopped down from her spot gracefully. As if sensing that I was troubled, she purred and rubbed against my leg soothingly. With a half smile, I picked her up. "Hey, Ginger." I sighed; I was glad to finally have a friend of some sort in this mess.

Looking at the clock, I realized that I was going to be late for work. _Oh, whatever. _I put out some basic stuff for Ginger and got ready. "I'll be back later," I told her as I walked out the door. _Still talking to cats. _I shook my head at myself.

* * *

The police station was in its usual state; cells talking and joking, with nothing better to do. Jones looked bored. His only reaction to my appearance was to grumble something under his breath. "Miss me, Jones?" I asked jokingly. Honestly, I didn't feel like joking around, but he didn't need to see what was going on in my head.

"Frankly, no; I was actually kinda hoping you weren't going to show up." He held his hands up defensively at the look I gave him. "What? You asked, I answered. Ain't that how it goes?"

I rolled my eyes and gestured for him to stand up. "Come on, we've got to do a patrol."

"Oh, yay. I get to sit in a car with a virus I can't even stand." He passed me and went out the door, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket angrily. He tried to get into his car on the driver's side, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him out. "What? No! You ain't driving this thing if I have anything to say about it!" he said indignantly as he yanked his arm out of my grip.

I grinned. "You _don't_ have anything to say about it, Jones." As he tried to into the driver's side of the car again, I grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around. Before he could do anything, I got in the car. "Well? Come on, in the other side." He walked around reluctantly and settled into the passenger's seat, crossing his arms. "There; was that so bad?" I smiled mockingly.

"I don't like the way you do that—that thing you do with cars!" he replied. "Besides, you're probably a bad driver." He didn't look at me.

I laughed. "Oh, but nowhere near as bad as you." I did that "thing I did with cars," shoving my clawed hand into the dashboard and turning it into something more _my_ style.

Jones turned pale. "See? That thing! This is _my car, _you idiot! I'm not gonna be stuck in a car with you; get out!" But instead, I squealed the tires on the pavement and took off at high speed—for Jones' benefit, of course. He scowled at me. "We're the cops! We're supposed to be setting an example for the citizens, not acting like morons!"

"I _am _setting an example," I answered breezily. "A bad one." I didn't care about being the good guy right then; I cared about getting away from the confusing thoughts in my head. _Look at me! I'm sitting here bickering with the biggest moron in Shane—probably on Earth—and not getting anything done. _

Jones' annoying voice cut through my thoughts. "Just let me drive."

_No. As crazy as you are, and as much as you want to get rid of me, you'd probably drive us off a bridge. _I didn't say anything, though. Eventually, I slowed the car down. "Better?" I asked sarcastically. Jones ignored me, glaring out the window. I sighed in exasperation. _I'm always the bad guy. Even when I'm the good guy, I'm the bad guy. _Some things never changed.

* * *

**A/N: I know Thrax seems really OOC in a lot of this story (now and in future chapters). That is because he has been through a lot, and it's starting to weigh him down and make him less...Thrax-y. I hope it doesn't make him less interesting...I've been trying, I promise!  
**


	4. I'm Cera, I Think

**A/N: I changed the last chapter a bit, trying to make Thrax a little more in character. I don't know if it worked, though. By the way, Cera is my "new" character. Why the quotes? That's for me to know, and you to find out! ;) Oh, and by the way, she doesn't remember her past...**

* * *

(Cera)

"Ilia, it'll be fine! We'll find Ginger," I promised my friend as we walked through the apartment building; we were going door to door, asking if anyone had seen a small orange cat.

Ilia frowned. "Why would she even be in this building? We're wasting our time here," she sniffled. Without answering, I knocked on the next door. There was the sound of footsteps, and someone grumbled something on the other side. Ilia glared at me for ignoring her and started to say her line, "Would you mind—"

"Sorry, babe. Not interested," a low male voice on the other side of the door interrupted. My temper flared; I hated it when people did that!

Before Ilia could stop me, I cried out, "Would you just listen for a! We're looking for a cat; her name is Ginger." There was a pause, and I wondered if the person had just walked away.

Finally, he said, "Sorry, I haven't seen your cat. I'll find you if she shows up." I knew he was lying about finding us; if he really meant it, he would have asked for an address or phone number. But Ilia and I just looked at each other and shrugged. There was no point in pushing the issue if the guy didn't want to help.

We were at the end of the hallway; we'd already checked the other apartments. _Ilia really likes her cat, _I sighed mentally. Putting a reassuring arm around the red blood cell, I told her, "Ginger will come back. It's no big deal that he doesn't want to help…besides, Ginger wouldn't run to a jerk like him anyway." Ilia had started sobbing again. _Ilia really, really likes her cat._ I patted her back awkwardly. I'd never had a pet that I could remember, so it was kind of hard to relate to this kind of problem.

"I—I know," she said shakily. "We just…have to keep looking for her."

_Oh, boy. It's going to be a long day._

* * *

Back in Ilia's silver car, we were driving through the arm near the elbow. I could see where a scab had been formed over the scrape Shane had gotten the day before. Ilia had calmed down some, but was still upset because I hadn't let her call for Ginger (loudly) out the window. Eventually, we reached the wrists. "Ilia, don't you think searching the entire body is a bit…_too_ much?" I asked timidly. The glare I received was enough of an answer. I turned back to the window resignedly. _Have I mentioned she likes her cat?_

The commotion off to the right caught my eye. "What…? Ilia, stop!" She looked out my window hopefully. "No, it's not Ginger. There's a fight!" Several germs were ganging up on one white blood cell, while a red-skinned virus watched from the side, looking amused. "We have to help!"

"Well, I could call Immunity…wait, what in Shane's name do you think you're doing?" Ilia demanded as I opened the door. Storming over to the red virus, I started to tell him to get out of the city; he flashed an Immunity badge before I could speak. He didn't look in my direction.

My anger turned to disbelief, relief, and then back to anger. "Why aren't you helping him?" I hissed. "You're supposed to be the good guy, aren't you?"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, baby. If he gets knocked out, I'll handle them before they can actually kill him. But it's actually pretty fun to watch." His voice—he was the jerk from earlier that morning! I scoffed and turned toward the fighters.

"Leave him alone!" I shouted furiously at the germs. They turned around for a moment and laughed at the sight of me before continuing to harass the white blood cell. Picking up a rock and throwing it, I tried again. "I said _leave him alone!_" The rock hit the tallest of the germs in the forehead, causing him to swear and turn around slowly. I gulped; the rock was supposed to get their attention, not actually make them mad. Especially not the biggest one.

The tall germ sneered at me. "This isn't your fight, little girl. But it's a little late to back out," he said, cracking his knuckles while his friends fought the other cell.

"Hey, what's-your-face!" I shouted at the virus standing over by the car; the germ was coming toward me menacingly. "A little help here?" But he was already on his way over. Big Guy turned and growled at the virus to stay out of it, but What's-his-face showed no fear. Presenting a pair of handcuffs, he continued to approach the germ.

As they were fighting, with the virus complaining that "This would be a lot easier if I was allowed to kill you," I slipped away unnoticed. The white blood cell wasn't doing so well; the germs were small, but they had numbers on their side. I plowed through the group and stood next to the cell.

"Get outta here! It's not safe for you!" he cried over the jeers of the germs around him.

"Bull spit," I replied as I shook my head. "I'm not going anywhere." The cell's eyes widened a bit in shock. People probably didn't say anything like that to him often. Without a word, I helped him turn the tables and put the germs on the defensive. _I have no idea how I'm doing this!_ I didn't remember learning to fight—of course, I didn't remember much—but it was like instinct. Finally, the remaining conscious germs put their hands up and announced their surrender. "Losers," I mumbled smugly.

But they weren't actually giving up. One of them whistled, and a moment later I could hear pounding feet and a loud bark. _Oh, spit._ The other cell looked around frantically; a huge wolf-like thing bounded into view around a building and straight toward him. "Watch out!" I cried. The wolf pounced on him and tried to bite his neck. I gasped in fear for the cell's life. But he dodged it by somehow stretching his membrane and rolled away. I kicked the dog, trying to distract it. "Hey, you mutt! Leave him alone!" It bared its teeth—or maybe they were fangs—at me. I gulped. _Maybe that wasn't a good idea…_ It charged at me too fast for me to run. In the blink of an eye, I was on the other side of it. _How did I do that?_ It was the same thing the white blood cell had done, but I didn't know how I'd learned it. I turned around, trying to regain my sense of direction. The white blood cell had gotten the wolf thing's attention back.

The cell was apparently annoying the wolf; it knocked him to the side with its muzzle. He hit his head on the ground and passed out. "Way to go. Now I've got to handle this alone, moron," I muttered. The dog tackled me while my guard was down. Its breath hit my face; it reeked of rotting flesh. Growling at me, the mutt prepared to strike. I closed my eyes tightly. I suddenly heard a sharp yelp. Opening my eyes, I saw the red virus pulling his claw out of the dog's ribs. It started whining pitifully as orange boils spread over its hide. Crying out in surprise, I pushed it off me right before it started to melt into an orange puddle. "I had in under control," I grumbled to the virus as I stared at the puddle in disgust.

"I could see that, babe," he replied in an amused voice, wiping off his glowing orange index claw. "I just decided to help before your 'control' of the situation ended up getting you killed." I glared at him, but he just shrugged, not bothering to hide his grin. "You're welcome," he added. I ignored him, kneeling down by the unconscious cell to check if he was okay. He had a bump on the side of his head. _At least he's still breathing,_ I thought, picking him up and carrying him toward Ilia's car. I noticed for the first time that she was holding her cell phone limply, her face a sickly pale color. Her face showed fear and disbelief; I'd never done anything that stupid before. I felt a grip on my arm. "What are you doing?" It was the virus again. "That's an Immunity officer! My…partner." He seemed to choke on the last word, as if it was hard to say it.

"Then why did you leave him to fight _alone?"_ I shouted, turning and putting my face inches from his. My hands were glowing orange like they always did when I was angry. He started to reply, but suddenly his eyes widened and his jaw went slack. "Ugh, creep," I muttered as I pulled my arm out of his now weak grip; I pushed him in the chest, leaving a scorch mark on his turtleneck as a souvenir. He inspected it in shock, looking from it to the fading glow of my hands, then to my face.

"You are such an idiot!" Ilia said as she finally recovered from her shock. "And stop doing that weird…glowy thing. It's just not natural for a white blood cell." I ignored her and settled the Immunity cell in the backseat. "Wait a second—he isn't coming with us, is he?"

I wasn't in the mood for her protests. "He's a freaking Immunity cell! I'm not going to leave him here with his creepy 'partner.' So yes, he's coming with us." Ilia shut up for once and got in the car, looking hurt. But I didn't apologize; neither of us said anything. I noticed the sky getting darker. We had spent the entire day looking for Ginger. _Another day wasted, _I thought. _I should be trying to figure stuff out. I should be learning things about who I am and where I came from._ I sighed sadly. I couldn't remember anything before that day, about a month ago, when I ran from whatever city I used to be in and came here.

As Ilia pulled the car into the driveway by our house, she finally spoke. "That guy—do you know him? He seemed to recognize you…and he looked a little surprised to see you, too."

"I don't remember!" I snapped. The look on her face made me regret it. "Listen, I'm sorry. But I can't remember _anything,_ remember?" Ilia nodded and got out of the car without another word. _Way to go, Cera. _I picked up the cell in the backseat gently and carried him inside. His eyelids fluttered, and I thought I heard him whisper a name…Tibia? My head started to hurt. _It's probably the excitement starting to wear off, _I rationalized as I set the cell down on the couch. The pained ebbed away slowly. "Who are you?" I wondered out loud. "You must have an Immunity badge…" I found it inside his jacket. "Osmosis Jones…of Frank?" Suddenly, my head started to hurt again, much worse. "Agh!" I yelled.

Ilia rushed into the living room. "What happened?" she asked worriedly when she saw me on the floor, clutching my head.

"I—I don't know," I answered honestly. The pain was already beginning to fade, but I had an uncomfortable feeling in the back of my mind; not a physical pain anymore. It was almost like my mind was running into the barrier between me and…and what? "I just had a headache." Ilia looked unsure, so I smiled to let her know everything was fine. I was smiling to let myself know everything was fine, too.

_But is it really?_

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, I couldn't quite reach the voices I'd heard in my dream. I couldn't identify the faces that haunted my sleep. It was always the same; two faces, two voices, calling a name that wasn't mine but seemed strangely familiar. I punched my pillow in frustration. _I hate amnesia!_

Ilia's bed was empty. She poked her head into our room and smiled. "I thought I heard you moving around in here. Come on, I'm making breakfast." I almost groaned; Ilia's cooking adventures almost always went bust. Stepping out into the living room, I realized something was wrong.

"Where's the Officer Jones guy?" I asked, confused.

Ilia shrugged. "I don't know; I came out here this morning and he was gone. Poof!" She gestured with her hands like she did when she was in a good mood.

I grimaced at her obvious happiness. "Why do you hate him?"

"Uh, _hello! _He almost got you _killed,_ remember?" _No, I almost got myself killed, _I wanted to reply. But before I got the chance, I found a crinkled piece of paper lying on the floor by the couch. I picked it up.

_A letter?_ It was written for someone named Tibia, signed by someone named Thrax. _How did the officer get this?_ My head started to ache again. I put a hand to it as I read the letter. Apparently, this Tibia chick was dead, and the Thrax guy loved her. And he'd had a dream to become a vaccine, which came true, but he didn't really care without Tibia around…? I shook my head in bewilderment. _Where does that officer come into all this? This doesn't look like evidence for a crime, so why would the Immunities need it?_

"What's that?" Ilia inquired, looking over my shoulder. I folded it back up before she could read it; it seemed too private to just show to everyone. She frowned and crossed her arms. "Okay, I see. It's a private love note from your secret admirer…Osmosis Jones of Frank!" she joked, unable to keep a straight face as she said it. But I didn't smile. A piece of my wall was chipping off; I realized something suddenly.

"I think I…I think I know Thrax."


	5. A Little Twist

(Ozzy)

_My head hurts…_I opened my eyes. I was in an unfamiliar room, lying on a couch. "What…? Where am I?" I stood up shakily. _How did I get here?_ I vaguely remembered a really big dog…a girl with short brown hair helping me fight…Thrax watching me get clobbered! I muttered under my breath. _Never trust a virus…not that I ever did._

Looking out the window, I saw the sky getting lighter. It was a little after dawn. My jacket was on the coat rack by the door, and I put it on. _Should I write a thank you note?_ I decided not to; it felt too much like déjà vu of the time I'd found Tibia. Tears welled up in my eye as I thought of how normal things had felt with her, despite the strange situation. I brushed them away angrily. _I just need to get outta here,_ I decided. I opened the door and shuffled outside, toward the police station. _I guess I'm going to work early today._

* * *

To my surprise, Thrax was already there when I got to the station. "What're you doing here?" I sputtered. I had been counting on some peace, but apparently that was too much to ask. Thrax didn't look up; he had a distant look in his eyes. I shrugged and sat down in a seat to the far side of the room.

My eyes jerked open when I heard loud laughter near me. "Catchin' up on sleep, huh Jones?" one of the officers teased. I blinked; I hadn't realized I'd dozed off. But apparently I had; the other officers hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Uhh…" I couldn't think of anything to say. _These guys are just like in Frank, always messin' with everyone. Except I don't know these guys. _Embarrassed, I stood up and stormed away, wishing I had just dropped the job offer and focused on what I'd actually come for. Revenge.

The perfect opportunity to ruin Thrax's life came later, when we were called into the chief's office. She didn't look too glad about it; I got the feeling I wasn't getting a promotion. "Listen, Jones," she said to me, "I know you don't want to work with a virus, but suck it up, okay? If you're that serious about it, you can take a number and wait for your turn to complain." She turned to Thrax. "As for _you…_I got a call this morning that made me pretty unhappy." After a pause, the chief continued, studying his expression for any reaction to her next sentence. "Some girl saying she witnessed _you_ watching a fight between _him_—" she pointed at me— "and a whole group of germs! She said you didn't do anything about it until she got involved!" Thrax's expression was carefully controlled. "So…did this happen the way she said it did?" Thrax didn't say anything, so she turned to me. "Well, Jones? Did it?"

"Yeah!" I said indignantly. And I saw my chance to get back at Thrax at that moment. "And not only that, he's the virus that—" Thrax's expression stopped me from spilling that he almost killed Frank. It was the look of someone who thought their life couldn't get any worse. The look they got as they had to watch idly while they were proven wrong. _Wait, Leah. Please; I need this job._ My mind flashed back to that day, when I was desperate to prove myself. To show everyone I wasn't just a bunch of hot air. To show them I was worth something.

All those_ years_ trying to get someone to see me as more than a waste of space.

"Well, Jones?" the chief raised an eyebrow questioningly. "The virus that what?"

The words were out before I could think. It was nothing like what I had meant to say. "He's the vaccine that helped me save Frank."

The chief blinked, shocked. She looked from me to Thrax disbelievingly. Then she smiled, impressed…and I already knew after only a couple days that it took a lot to impress her. _What am I, an idiot? _I wanted to hit my head against a wall. _The perfect opportunity, and I just gave it the finger!_ Thrax looked beyond shocked. He sat down heavily in the chair in front of the chief's desk. "Well, then," the chief finally said. "I don't really know what to say; you can go." Turning around as I stepped out the door, I thought I saw something...unusual in the chief's eyes. And she wasn't looking at me; her interest was Thrax.

* * *

We had to go out and take radar that day. I expected another scuffle over who got to drive; I was even ready to win it. But Thrax didn't object when I opened the driver's side door. _Is he getting sick or something? Wait, do viruses even _get_ sick? _I shrugged to myself. _I don't care anyway_, I told myself.

Neither of us spoke as I drove. Finally, when we were parked at the side of the Inferior Vena Cava highway, Thrax growled, "I don't want your sympathy, Jones." He wasn't looking at me.

"It wasn't sympathy," I mumbled in reply. My radio buzzed; I thought I heard the words _headache, backache, and __stomach pain,_ but I wasn't paying much attention.

Thrax turned to look at me, half curious, half angry. "Then what was that back there? Why did you say that? I know you want me dead; why didn't you just tell the truth and get it over with?" His eyes narrowed. "What was it that made you lie for me?"

"I don't know, okay?" I ran my fingers through my hair, perplexed. "Maybe it's just that I've been in your place before; I've been in that place where you want to prove yourself, and no one wants to let you try." _Why am I even talking to him?_ "Just...just forget it." _  
_

But Thrax didn't "just forget it." Raising an eyebrow, he said. "You don't know anything, do you?" He chuckled darkly. "You really think you've ever been in my place? You think you've had some terrible life and you're all wise now?"

"Uhh..."

"Let me ask you this; have you ever had to face the disgust and _hatred_ on your own parents' faces when you tell them you don't want to be a killer after all? Were you abandoned at sixteen because you weren't what they wanted you to be?"

I didn't like where he was going; I didn't want to hear his life story. I was in Shane to get rid of him, not _this_. I tried to escape the car, but he got out too and continued. "Tell me, Jones. And then, if you were abandoned, did you try to follow your dream to be greeted with loaded guns and handcuffs? Were you locked away for no reason other than you were a virus?" He laughed harshly again. "And then, when I escaped, I thought I found the one who would never abandon me. But guess what? She did! Everyone I've ever loved has abandoned me. You tell me, Jones-can you honestly say that you were left behind?" His claw was right in between my eyes; I could feel the heat of his anger emanating from it.

Suddenly, the claw was drawn back. With a snarl, Thrax jumped off the edge of the highway and opened up his coat, floating off to somewhere else in Shane.

"Yes," I whispered belatedly. "Yes, I can." I collapsed back into the seat of my car and blew out a sigh. "Who would'a ever thought we had anything in common?" I mused. I sat in my car alone for a while, considering what he'd said. "His life is screwed up enough without my help," I decided, feeling guilty. I searched in my glove compartment for the small bottle; it had been my plan for revenge. Holding it out of the window, I looked at it one last time before letting go.

Alcohol splattered on the pavement as the bottle shattered. Just enough to kill a virus.

But it wouldn't kill anyone now.

"Thrax, you won't die at my hands," I promised quietly.

* * *

***Gasp* Ozzy was abandoned? Well, I'm kinda writing a story about his childhood now...maybe it's not so good, but I have to do it! I just decided that if I came up with a background story for Thrax, why not him?  
**


	6. Guess Who?

(Thrax)

As I landed on the ground, it suddenly hit me that I'd just spilled my life story...to the last person I would ever trust. "Great. Of _all_ the people I could have lost it in front of, it just had to be Jones, didn't it?" I growled and almost slashed at a wall in my frustration. _No, I can't even do that anymore. _"Where am I, anyway?" I asked the wall.

"You're in the shoulder, Thrax honey." It was the last person-well, one of the two-that I ever wanted to see or hear again. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

I turned to the other virus. She still looked the same; dark purple skin, silvery hair, a lethal smile to go with her lethal yellow claw. Altogether, downright gorgeous. But that didn't change that I hated her now. "What do you want, Zaire?" I asked resignedly. I was getting tired of all the nasty surprises…no, wait, I was way past that point by then.

Zaire grinned mischievously. "Well, that's no way to greet an old friend, is it, Thraxy?" she asked teasingly, waving her glowing yellow claw in mock reproach.

I ignored her annoying pet name for me. "Just tell me what you want already!"

"Fine, whatever. Ruin the fun, why don't you?" she pouted. "But I think you already know what I want, don't you?" She moved closer, tracing circles on the front of my coat with her pinky finger. "And I know you're just the virus to help me." She leaned her head on my shoulder. I pushed her off, grimacing in disgust. "I've missed you, honey. It's been a while since we were seventeen, hasn't it? Well, maybe only around a year, but who's counting? It's enough to make me wish you were still mine." She gazed at me with her wide green eyes, obviously flirting with me.

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes , I replied, "You lost that chance a long time ago. Besides, I don't work with your kind anymore." My voice was flat.

Zaire scoffed. "You really think that _I _would fall for that stupid 'I'm a vaccine' trick? I know you better than anyone. And I know that you—" she poked my chest playfully— "would never stoop so low." She twirled around in a full circle once. "So…? Are you in?"

"No," I replied stiffly. If she wanted to take down Shane, that was her choice. But I would definitely _not_ join her. "And for the record, you don't know me half as well as you think."

Zaire stiffened. Her eyes narrowed. "You know, I heard about that little red-head girlfriend of yours. You know, the dead one?" she hissed vehemently. "I honestly thought you were above that kind of thing; I thought it was just a fling, just for amusement. But with the way you're acting now, I'm not quite so sure anymore. Maybe you _are _just one of those nutcases after all!" She tilted her head quizzically, softening her voice. "You used to so charming…what changed you, Thraxy?"

"You can either get out of this body or you can be brought down by Immunity; your choice," was my only reply. I turned in the opposite direction, obviously ending the conversation.

Zaire giggled. "That's a good one, honey. You know, they have epidemics of my kind in other countries; soon enough, there will be an epidemic here as well. I'm unstoppable!" I ignored her, continuing to walk away. "You have three more days; that's how much longer this little headache and nausea combo's gonna last before I bring this body down hard. If you haven't decided by then…" she shrugged. "Buh-bye, Thraxy."

My spine tingled in apprehension. She was insane. A psychopath. _But it would feel good to _do_ something __for once..._

"My answer is no; I told myself I would never work with an Ebola again, and I'm sticking to it," I promised myself in a low voice.

* * *

That night, I was sitting on my couch, thinking too much. I sighed as I reluctantly pulled out a newspaper clipping from a previous body I—we—had killed. It was the first little girl either of us had ever infected, and Zaire and I had made a mess of it; almost got ourselves caught. That was the picture in the paper I was holding. It was a sighting of us together. But Zaire and I…we _had_ been unstoppable, for a while. I remembered holding her and thinking she would never betray me, never abandon me like everyone else.

And then _BAM!_

Years later, we were in that old man, the last body we infected together before I tackled Frank alone. She had done her Ebola thing, I had done my Red Death thing, and I had one more chromosome to add to my chain. We were getting ready to leave, standing in the uvula together as usual. The mouth of the old man opened to sneeze from the pollen pods we threw, and we glided out, me holding Zaire to keep her from tumbling to the ground. I could see that we were in an ambulance parked in the zoo. _Well, you called 911 a little late, didn't you? _I had thought as we landed on the nose tip of one of the guys carrying the stretcher. Nothing was going wrong, until...

Zaire smiled at me viciously as the guy said, "All the symptoms of Ebola. This is definitely Ebola." Of course, I was a little angry; we had just broken the previous record, and would be the one in the medical books. But I assumed then that we would just work together and do better the next time, making sure we _both_ got credit. I trusted Zaire; I thought she loved me as much as I loved her.

But when she smiled at me, it wasn't sweet and loving like the others. "Why, I'm flattered. Me? A record breaker?" She laughed at my furious expression. "Thraxy, honey, don't look at me like that. That expression doesn't suit you at all." She held my chin up, squeezing my cheeks to raise the corners of my mouth. As if I were a cute little kid throwing a temper tantrum. "There; better. Buh-bye, Thraxy!" she called into the wind as she pushed me off the guy's nose roughly. I tumbled through the air, finally managing to open my coat and float out the ambulance doors before I hit the ground.

I landed in a pile of straw next to the monkey cage, halfway watching some human moron fighting over something with a monkey. The girl nearby was shouting desperately for him to stop. _What is that idiot doing? _I wondered with an amused half-smile. Of course, that smile disappeared as a huge egg came plummeting from the sky straight at me; it barely missed. The ground shook when it landed, and I looked up at the man angrily. As he bent down, as if to pick the egg back up off the ground, my eyes widened. "Are you seriously that _stupid?_" I asked him, though he couldn't hear me. His hand wrapped around it and I quickly grabbed onto the surface before it lifted up. "Hey, it works for me," I had said.

And that was how I got to Frank the first time, determined to break Zaire's record…or die trying.

I jumped a bit, startled out of my thoughts as Ginger mewed and rubbed her face against my hand. Relieved, I stroked the fur on her back and said, "You're a good cat, you know that, Ginger? You don't hate me for being a virus. You don't have any malicious plans to ruin my life." She purred and followed me as I stood up and walked to my bedroom. I looked at the newspaper clipping one last time before crinkling it in my hand and setting it alight. I watched it burn in my palm, satisfied. Ginger watched me curiously as I threw the ashes in the thrash. "Just taking care of something that should have been done a long time ago," I explained as I got ready for bed.

The shirt I'd been wearing the day before was lying on the nightstand. _Oh yeah...the burn marks._ I thought of the girl's face, how I'd been _so_ sure she was Tibia. _But she can't be. Tibia's dead._ But her eyes-they were the same! _How did she do that?_ I wondered, turning my attention back to the scorched turtleneck. It hadn't hurt me, of course, but it was...weird. _How can _anyone _do that but a virus?_ I shook my head in confusion and crawled into bed.

Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling until I fell into a fitful sleep. I had the same nightmare as always, but different.

* * *

My claw was stuck as the false eyelash fluttered toward the beaker of alcohol. I yelled out, angry and afraid at the same time. I hoped it wouldn't end like this, even though I knew it would; it never ended well in this nightmare. The eyelash hit the liquid, turning brittle. Even in my sleep, I could still feel the burn from it seeping into me as I struggled to free myself.

A small piece of the eyelash finally broke off and I managed to pull my hand free. Desperately, I jumped and reached for the crack on the side of the beaker, trying to grab it with my uninjured right hand. But like it happened every time I had this same nightmare, I came _so close,_ and then missed. Only this time, I could vaguely see Zaire's face taunting me from up on Shane's real eyelash instead of Jones. As I splashed into the alcohol—like I did in the nightmare every time—I felt a cool hand wrap around my arm. I'd only been rescued once in this nightmare. I didn't want to see Tibia fall again.

I glanced up cautiously; it was Jones looking down at me that time. He had stretched all the way down from the top of the glass to save me.

"I'm not gonna kill you, Thrax."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I'm aware that Zaire is a country in Africa. But it is also the name of a strain of Ebola discovered in 1976, so I named the virus girl after it.  
**


	7. Forgotten

(Ozzy)

_I can't believe I'm doing this._ I shook my head incredulously as I knocked on the door to Thrax's apartment._ Frank, I just hope he doesn't strangle me or something._ Finally, the door opened. Thrax was standing in front of me, wearing only sweatpants. I was used to seeing him in his full outfit; gray turtleneck, black pants, shoes, and trench coat. It felt strange to finally admit that he had a life outside of being…whatever he was now. A good guy? A bad guy? A slightly bad good guy?

"Oh. My favorite person," Thrax muttered sarcastically under his breath. I could tell he was embarrassed about our "conversation" in the car the day before. "What do you want, Jones?" he asked warily.

"I uh…I just came to tell you that I'm not going to kill you."

Thrax smirked. "Well, I knew that already," he said. _Translation: You couldn't if you tried._

I cleared my throat. _Here comes the hard part._ "And I'm s…" I couldn't get the rest of the word out, so I changed course. "And I'm not as convinced now that you are a bad driver." Thrax chuckled quietly, but still seemed suspicious of my reason for coming. "I still don't like you, though," I added hastily.

"Never woulda' had it any other way, Jones," was his reply. He closed the door, knowing that our conversation was over. I turned away from the closed door, feeling better somehow.

* * *

Later, I was on my way to work when I passed Thrax going the other way, head down. "Yo, Thrax! Where're you going?" I asked him, rolling down the window of my car.

He looked up and narrowed his eyes at me. "This is _your_ fault!" he hissed at me, coming over to speak to me through the window. "They're spreading rumors about me being in love with an Ebola virus!"

"Who?" I was confused. _Why would anyone even talk about Ebola around here?_

"As if you don't already know! How did you find out?" I didn't answer, so he grabbed the front of my jacket. "How did you find out that I used to love Zaire?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean right now? You told me." He scowled, obviously not believing I hadn't already known. Apparently my sort-of apology hadn't cut it. "Chill, man," I told him.

Just so you know, telling a fever virus to "Chill" is probably not a good idea.

Thrax shook me. "Is this a joke to you? You find this funny?" He finally let go of me, leaving scorch marks on my jacket. "You're just like the others, you know that? Only worse, because you know the truth, and you don't care. All that matters is yourself!" His claw was dangerously close to my face. My eyes crossed as I tried to keep it in view; I could feel the heat emanating from it. He suddenly pulled it back out of the window and stalked away angrily.

"Wait, you _hate _Ebola," I murmured belatedly. "You used to love this…Zaire?" I shook my head. Thrax was a confusing guy.

* * *

Just like Thrax had said, there was laughter and none-too-quiet gossip spreading through the police station. I could easily make out the words of multiple conversations; one person was talking about how Thrax was going out with some Ebola virus, and another was saying—well, that Thrax was going out with an Ebola virus.

"Hey, Jones!" One of the officers clapped me on the back a bit too hard and grinned. "Watch out for that partner of yours. Have you heard that—"

"Leave him alone!" I shouted before I could stop myself. The entire room went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. _Great. Everyone heard me standing up for someone I don't even really like that much. _"Thrax isn't…a bad guy. He's been through a lot, and uh…well, he doesn't need more problems. If you need someone to gossip about, gossip about the idiot who is best friends with a cold pill and head over heels in love with a dead girl." No one said anything. I felt my face burning in embarrassment as I retreated to a corner of the room. _  
_

Finally, realizing the show was over, the cells in the room started talking again. They were too quiet for me to hear the words, though; I hoped they weren't still gossiping about Thrax. _I don't care, remember?_ I reminded myself, putting my head down. I looked back up with slight interest as the door opened. I almost jumped out of my seat when I saw the brown-haired girl from the fight. _She probably thinks I'm a jerk who likes to let people put their lives on the line for him and then run away without a thank you. Is that what I am?_ She was speaking to the person at the desk, saying something about a missing cat. There was a dark haired red blood cell with her as well. I heard the brown haired white blood cell girl utter a thanks to the person she was talking to.

She turned around and looked right at me. Her eyes widened slightly before she laughed. "Oh, duh! You're an Immunity cell." Pulling her friend behind her, she joined me in my otherwise empty corner. Taking a seat, she asked, "You okay? Why are you all alone over here?"

"I made a complete fool of myself," I mumbled into my arm. My head was down to hide my face; it was probably purple from my humiliation. "Wait, you don't hate me?"

She laughed, a breezy sound. I closed my eyes, imagining it was Tibia. _Wait, that _is_ Tibia's laugh…no, it's my imagination. _Not noticing my argument with myself, she spoke. "Of course not! Why would I hate you?" Before I could respond with the obvious answer, she made a "one moment" gesture. "I found this…on my living room floor. I think you left it by accident." It was the letter that Thrax had written to Tibia over a month ago.

"Who are you?" I suddenly asked her. _She's not Tibia, you moron, _I told myself. _Just because her voice sounds similar…_

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm Cera." She held out her hand for a handshake. "And this is Ilia, my best friend." Her "best friend" wasn't looking too happy with me. "Ilia, be nice! Oh, for Shane's sake, stop being so melodramatic!" She looked at me apologetically. "She thinks you almost got me killed the other day," Cera explained with a shrug.

"Cera," Ilia said, dragging her name out. "We need to go find Ginger, remember?" Reluctantly, Cera stood up with her.

I followed suit, but before she left, I was determined to apologize for the mess the other day. I looked into her eyes, feeling guilty. "I _did_ almost get you…" I trailed off; her eyes were blue! Her eyes were blue, like Tibia's! And her features looked the same, and her hair was curly. It was short and brown, but she was the same! I felt dizzy suddenly; my knees buckled. Cera grabbed my arms before I fell. Or was she Tibia?

"Are you okay? Officer, are you alright?" Cera/Tibia looked at my face intently, looking worried.

"I'm fine," I replied, dazed. "But wait, why Cera? And why aren't you just calling me Ozzy? And why did you cut and dye your hair?"

She looked confused. "Pardon?" My heart sank. No, my heart plummeted. _She doesn't remember?_

"Do you remember me?" I asked haltingly. I noticed vaguely that people were watching us, but I didn't care. Tibia/Cera set me back in my chair gently. My legs were still weak from shock.

She looked down at me with an "I'm talking to a crazy guy" look on her face. "Of course I remember you…I just met you the other day."

I moaned. "No…No, no, NO!" Tibia and Ilia exchanged nervous glances. I desperately grabbed Tibia by the shoulders. "Who am I?"

"Osmosis Jones?" she made it a question.

"Who are you?" I demanded. _Please say Tibia!_

"Cera! Now let go of me!" She glared at me, obviously tired of my questions. I let go of her, noticing—_what in Frank?_ Her hands were glowing orange! She stuck a finger in between my eyes, hovering in front of my face. It was like Thrax had done with his claw, except her finger was softer. But no less hot. "Stay away from me! I don't know who you are or what you want, but stay away from me!" She pushed me away with her glowing hands, burning me through my T-shirt.

But that pain was nothing. _Tibia doesn't remember me.  
_


	8. Back in Business

(Thrax)

I was running. My apartment was close; I had to find the _one_ creature in my life that hadn't shunned me in some way. I had to, before the carefully constructed wall I had created crumbled and I started killing people. I took the steps two at a time, barging through the door of my apartment to find it empty. The living room, the kitchen, my bedroom, the bathroom. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, trying to maintain my control; I was shaking.

Finally I calmed down and checked in my room again for Ginger. Looking under my bed on an impulse, I could see her bright golden eyes looking at me in the dark space. "Come here, Ginger," I murmured, relieved. But she didn't budge. "Come on," I repeated, reaching for her to scoop her out from under the bed. She made an angry sound in her throat and swiped her claws at me. It didn't hurt physically, but it was the last straw for me emotionally.

I could feel the wall crumbling.

I could feel something in me snap.

With a scowl, I stood up. "Fine! If you want to be alone, you can be alone in your last moments." I stalked angrily to the other side of my apartment, yelling. "Everyone in this city can enjoy their last moments however they want!" I tore the curtains off the wall and threw them to the floor, looking out the window in my kitchen for the last time. "This place is going up in flames, baby," I murmured, flexing my glowing claw. I tapped the table; smoke rose from it, followed by a small tongue of flame. I continued from there, tracing my claw against the wall until I got to the door. Leaving it unscathed for the moment, I opened it. "See ya 'round, Ginger. I'm going to see an old friend." As I closed the door, I ran my claw down it, causing it to burst into flames as well. "No escape, babe."

I calmly descended the stairway, humming "Fever" as I strolled out of the building. Casually, I made my way to the shoulder, not too far from my place by the collarbone.

"Well, well, well…" Zaire's smug voice greeted me. "Look what the cat dragged in."

I laughed harshly. "Please don't get me started on cats, babe…but it _is_ good to be back."

* * *

Zaire's presence beside me felt comfortingly familiar, despite the hatred that had separated us for so long. Suddenly, she stopped. "It's been so long, Thrax," she murmured quietly.

I raised an eyebrow. "This doesn't make us an item," I informed her. Biting her lip, she nodded.

"I ruined everything, didn't I?" she moaned as we continued.

"Keep your voice down!" I whispered ; two viruses caught traveling together—especially if one of them was not a vaccine—would probably raise suspicion. After a moment, I answered her question. "But yes, you kind of did." We moved in silence to our previously designated split-up/meet up spot. "Now, I'm gonna go do my thing, you do yours. And no pulling any extra strings to get all the credit!" I warned Zaire. "Or things might get a little messy. I'm a lot less naïve than I was when I was seventeen." I waved my claw to encourage her to listen.

With a gulp, Zaire nodded. "Don't get caught," she said with a weak smile. Before I could reply, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and was gone.

I rubbed my face irritably. "I _said_ we weren't an item." Sighing, I started in the direction of the police station. My wrist felt bare without the familiar touch of the DNA chain rubbing against it; it had been taken away as part of the deal for me to become a vaccine. _First thing's first. I get that back, then I get on to the rest._ I almost slipped back into my old habits, trying to slip into the station unnoticed before I realized it wasn't necessary. No one had any clue what I was after. I scanned the room, noting with satisfaction that everyone was talking in their little groups. I didn't care if it was about me; they would learn their lesson soon enough anyway. Jones was alone in a corner of the room, huddled in a chair with a bewildered, hurt expression.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," I said to him before I had a chance to remind myself I was supposed to avoid attention. "…and then the ghost you saw told you that you were adopted."

Jones looked at me, or maybe just through me. "She doesn't remember me," he mumbled. I tried to get him to tell me what in the name of Shane he was talking about, but he stayed silent and stared at the ground. _Whatever; it doesn't matter anyway._ I shrugged and pushed the door to the chief's office open. _Oh, this just gets better and better, don't it? _The chief was gone, the chain was hanging up in plain sight, and no one would notice me as I slipped back out.

"What are you doing?" a voice behind me asked suspiciously as I wrapped my hand around the chain. Stuffing it in my pocket hastily, I got a look at the newcomer. _Oops,_ I thought. It was the chief.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Just admiring this photo," I said easily, pointing at the picture of some guy in an old immunity uniform. I hadn't even noticed it at first.

"That's my father; he died about a year ago," the chief replied. Her tough shell cracked a bit, along with her voice. "Fighting…the Red Death."

_I didn't mean to get into this conversation,_ I thought warily. "I'm sorry…but I promise it wasn't me." That, at least, was the truth. I'd never seen the guy.

"Sit down," she ordered. Realizing that she had used an overly harsh tone, she apologized. "It's just habit. Listen, I'm sorry I didn't trust you before; it was because of what happened to my father. I know that's no excuse, but…" she smiled wryly. "You know, I'm actually not even from Shane."

"Really?" I asked, faking interest. I hoped she was done; I needed to split.

She nodded. "The body I used to live in, she was a little girl named Lily. She died of the Red Death, as well as my father and trillions of others. My mother barely escaped with me." I clutched the arms of the chair I was sitting in. _Lily! This little thing comes from a girl in California...didn't like to wash her hands…three whole weeks to bring her down. _The first girl I had ever taken down with Zaire. _Her father must have been one of the many Immunities we had to kill to escape!_ The chief continued, unaware of my reaction. "The next body I went to, some woman named Reanne…she died too. Ebola. My mother didn't escape that time." She was whispering; there were tears gathering in her eyes.

_You're kidding me. Reanne? She was the second lady! _I felt terrible deep down, regardless of the fact that I was technically back in business. I had killed my own boss's family, taken away two of her homes, and scarred her for life? Complaining in my head all the while that my own life was dysfunctional? "I—I'm sorry," I said genuinely.

The chief gave me a watery smile, wiping her eyes. "Don't blame yourself, Thrax. _I'm_ the one who's sorry. I didn't trust you."

_Oh, the irony.__  
_

"I'm probably boring you with my rambling," the chief said meekly. "Thank you for listening; I appreciate it."

I mumbled "No problem" as I escaped the small room. At least, I thought I said something; maybe I couldn't even move my mouth to speak.

My radio buzzed with static. "We've got an apartment building on fire in the collarbone area! We need help to control it; several cells trapped inside!" _I'm a __killer, remember? I'm supposed to do this. _But if that was true, then why did it feel wrong as my feet kept walking toward the hypothalamus? There would be no warning before the fever struck; I was skipping the fake cold.

_This is for you, Mom and Dad. You wanted me to be a killer? Well, I am one.  
_

_And I'm worse than I ever thought.  
_


	9. Fire, Bring me Back

(Cera)

"I told you, like, a billion times; that guy is a creep!" Ilia wouldn't shut up about Osmosis Jones, "the guy who went crazy and turned out to be a creeper after all." And she was being ignored. We were walking down a street somewhere around the collarbone area when I smelled smoke. I felt as if I'd been struck by lightning; the smoke wasn't from a normal fire...it felt familiar.

"Ilia, would you shut up for a second? Please?" I requested exasperatedly. She finally complied, but not without throwing me a dirty look. "There's a building on fire!" With her babbling gone, I could hear screams of people a couple blocks away; smoke was rising on the wind. "How did this happen?" I gasped when I saw the burning apartment building.

Ilia gasped in horror. "Ginger!" She pointed to the third floor; sure enough, Ginger was on the window sill, surrounded by flames and smoke. "I have to save her!" She took off toward the building.

Before she could make it far, I grabbed the back of her shirt. "Are you insane? You'll get yourself killed!" Tears welled up in Ilia's eyes. "Fine," I said. "I'll see what I can do." I hurried over to the firemen with the hoses. "There's a cat up there on the third floor," I began, feeling like an idiot. "It's…uh, it's mine."

"We're doing all we can, lady," was his curt reply. Obviously, he didn't think he had time for crazy ladies looking for their cats. _Well, I'm crazy, all right,_ I thought as I made my way toward the building, ignoring the people trying to tell me I couldn't pass. I grasped the wall and began climbing up slowly, sticking my fingertips into the gaps between bricks. _I'm doing this for a cat. _I shook my head at my idiocy. As I neared the place where the fire was, I suddenly went weak with fear. The fire…it was so familiar. I hung by my fingers for a moment, scrabbling for a purchase on the wall with my feet.

Ginger was yowling fearfully. I wrapped an arm around her and realized belatedly I only had one free hand, and no way to climb down. So instead, I pulled myself up, _into_ the apartment. _What in the name of Shane is wrong with me? Yeah, Cera; going into the fire will help you escape. _Holding Ginger protectively against me, I charged through the room, through the flames before I could think. _It doesn't hurt,_ I realized, astonished. Ginger was even louder as she felt the flames dangerously close. But I held her away from them.

Down the steps; out the doors. Several people stared at me as I emerged from the doors, completely unscathed. But unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for my clothes. "Hey, you!" I turned toward the voice cautiously. "You're immune to fire? There are still several others in the building, if you don't mind helping." I nodded and rushed back in after setting Ginger down. She trotted over to Ilia and demanded attention.

And then I was back in the same smoky world as before. I opened doors on the first floor, carrying out babies and children that needed saved. Then the second floor, but there were less survivors there. The third floor was a total loss. My eyes watered from more than just the smoke at the sight of the singed corpses on the ground. "Whoever did this…I'll get them for it," I snarled.

I was passing an apartment on the second floor when I heard a baby's cry. I felt the floor threatening to give way above me, and I thought about leaving to save myself. _What kind of person am I? _I thought in disgust. _I'm not leaving a baby to __die in a fire!_ Even as the walls buckled and the ceiling threatened to cave, I carefully picked my way through the messy apartment. Whoever lived there didn't like to clean; they'd also left their baby in the crib while they escaped from the fire. I cradled the baby gently; somehow she hadn't been burned badly yet, but she was crying loudly.

The ceiling creaked louder, the walls bulged inward more. With a final deathly sigh, the building settled.

And everything fell on top of me as I held the baby to my chest protectively. Everything went black

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I was in a room; it wasn't a regular room like in a house. It was a science-y room, with lots of thermometers sticking out of a panel around the DNA strand in the center. The DNA strand that happened to be going berserk. The room was on fire. "No Tibia! There has to be some other way to do this!" Ozzy said in a voice rough with the smoke; I knew it was him then. It was the same officer I had met before, the one who had acted strangely. But I felt attached to him in a way.

"It's too late. I have to do this."

"I love you." The words struck a chord somewhere deep in me, thrumming with just the right note. And the floodgates opened. Not only was I leaping forward to place the small purplish orb I was holding back into the DNA strand, I was reliving every memory I'd ever had.

All of my lost past—it gushed forward in an instant, like a swollen river when the dam breaks. _I love you both. Ozzy...Thrax...  
_

_Am I dead?_

* * *

**Sorry if this is confusing. I'll explain; this chapter is happening right after Cera/Tibia and Ilia left Ozzy behind at the police station. That's why the fire hadn't spread very far yet, and Ginger hadn't died in the flames. I just couldn't kill the poor kitty!  
**

**By the way, I am a terrible, terrible person. But maybe it will turn out okay for everyone in the end? (Fail poker face)  
**


	10. Reunion & Danger

(Ozzy)

My radio crackled with static; I was forced out of my trance. "We've got an apartment building fire in the collarbone area! We need help to control it; several cells trapped inside!" _Oh, Frank. That's bad!_ I pulled my jacket on and rushed out of the door, along with several of the other Immunity officers that were going to help. I pushed to the front of the crowd and started running. _Thrax's apartment is in the collarbone…what if…? _I hoped it wasn't his building. I hoped he wasn't trapped inside. _I just feel bad for him, that's all,_ I rationalized with myself. _We aren't friends. He just has enough problems already without his home burning down. _

We arrived to see a girl emerging from the building unharmed, holding a cat. She spoke briefly with a fireman, nodded, set the cat down, and went back in. "Are you crazy?" I shouted when I realized it was Tibia. _She's gonna get herself burned to death again!_ But moments later, she reappeared with two small children, still unhurt. I blinked. _She must just be lucky. No, wait, she's going back in!_ I jostled my way through the crowd of anxious people waiting to see what happened. But several people barred my way. "Let me through!" I tried to push them away, but they didn't budge. I was forced to watch helplessly.

Tibia came out again, with two more children…still not burnt. And she did it again, and again. The building started to sag, as if unwilling to fight the inevitable. _Get out! _But she didn't come.

She was still in the building when it collapsed.

"NO!" I screamed when I saw it. _I've lost her twice now. _I finally squeezed in between the people in front of me and rushed to the ruins of the building. I dug through the rubble, ignoring the burns that I got on my hands from touching the hot remains. "Please, please be here somewhere!" I begged. A squalling noise reached me; a baby. Turning to where I'd heard the noise, I managed to uncover a foot. Not a baby's foot-I recognized Tibia's favorite boots! With renewed energy, I continued to search. I uncovered Tibia's arms to find a baby cradled protectively against her. I picked it up gently and continued to search through the brick, eventually finding her face, covered in ash with her eyes closed. A tear escaped from my eye. "No…"

Tibia's eyes opened halfway. Seeing me, she half-smiled. "Ozzy…you came for me." she weakly held my hand. "I missed you." My heart soared.

"You're alive!" I whispered. Even if she didn't remember, she was there, breathing.

She smiled, amused. "Of course I'm alive. I don't give up easily, remember?" My breath caught. _Could that mean…? _"I remember everything," she whispered to me as if in reply to my thoughts. She closed her eyes as I freed her from the rubble the rest of the way and held her as well as the baby. "I never got a chance to answer you that day. In the hypothalamus. Do you still love me?"

"Always." I smiled weakly, afraid to hope.

She smiled and looked at me with those blue eyes. "Good. Because I love you too."

* * *

Tibia was recovering in a hospital, as well as the baby she had rescued. She was asleep then, and I was sitting in a chair nearby. It had only taken a few minutes to get her here; the hospital was close to where we were. The small TV in the hospital room was on. The news lady was discussing the fire and dramatic rescue performed by a young Immunity officer of Frank. I smiled. The news turned to the weather. _Blah, blah, 98.6 degrees, we know,_ I thought. But the weather had changed. Shane had a slight fever, but it was rising! I stood up, grabbing my radio. As I left the room, I spoke into it. "What's the status on Shane's health?"

"Not so good, actually," a voice replied. "She has a stomachache—which we are investigating—as well as some muscle weakness and aches. We're thinking Influenza, but hoping it's not." _Oh, Frank, this could be bad. _My mind flashed back to the day Thrax spilled his story to me. My radio! Shane had already had a headache and stomach pains! _I should have paid attention._ _How long has this been going on, again?_

_Oh, Frank. _Tibia came out of her room looking for me suddenly. I put the radio back hastily, not wanting to worry her. "What're you doing out here?" I asked her. "You're supposed to be resting!" I tried to herd her back into the room, but she stood her ground.

"I've been waiting for a month to get my life back, and now I have it! Why won't anyone let me _live_ a little?" Before I could reply, she held a finger to my lips, grinning. "Don't even start on the 'you're recovering' crap. I'm not burned; I don't have any bones to break. Yay! I'm recovered!" She made a "poof" gesture.

I had to tell her. "I don't want you to leave here for now," I admitted. At her concerned expression, I continued. "There's something wrong with Shane, and I want you to wait until it's resolved."

"Oh, come on, Ozzy! Don't get all overprotective now! I survived _two_ fires, and a building collapsed on me. If I can survive that, I can survive a couple cold germs." I gave her an "I'm not backing down" look and told her to stay put. _I have to go help._ I sprinted down the hall and out the doors.

* * *

"It's gone!" the chief exclaimed to some cell standing in front of her. "The chain is gone."

A horrible idea struck my mind. _Thrax's chain is gone and Shane has a fever? _"Chief," I said tentatively. Both cells' eyes turned to me. "I think I know what's going on."

"What is it, then, Jones?" She sounded as if she were humoring me.

"I think Thrax has gone rogue," I replied slowly. The venomous look she gave me made me flinch. "Look," I snapped. "His chain is gone and Shane has a fever. What else _could _it be?"

The chief laughed humorlessly. "Maybe, if you actually paid attention for once, you would have found out at some point that there are two things wrong with your idea." She ticked them off on her fingers. "One, Red Death viruses, as you and I both know, cause cold symptoms before they strike. This was sudden. And two, that's not the only symptom. Shane threw up multiple times, and she has muscle weakness and aches. Those aren't symptoms of the Red Death."

"Maybe not," I replied slowly as everything fell into place. "_They're spreading rumors that I'm in love with an Ebola virus!" _Thrax had naturally blamed me for it._ Why would anyone even talk about an Ebola virus around here? _I had wondered. "But those are the early symptoms of Ebola! What if Thrax teamed up—"

"That is enough, Jones!" the chief cried out. "Why do you not trust him, anyway? _You're _the one who said he helped you save Frank."

_Oops, my bad._ "I kind of…lied," I admitted sheepishly.

"Get out of my office," she ordered in a dangerously calm voice. "You're fired." I started to object, but decided it was a waste of time. _Why is she favoring him? What does she feel for him?_ I shook my head. I thought that she hated _all _viruses. But she sure wasn't acting like she hated Thrax. She was acting just the opposite, in fact.

"You're going to regret this," I informed her. "Because if I don't have some sort of help, Shane is going to die."

* * *

**A/N: Now I feel bad again (still)! An extremely cheesy reunion scene at the top where Ozzy gets the love of his life back. But wait-oh crap, Ozzy lost his job and Shane's gonna die. That's a nice combination, isn't it? **_  
_


	11. Getting Help

(Tibia)

It was getting too warm in the hospital room. "I'm not going to sit here like a moron while Shane gets sick!" I announced, though nobody was listening. "I'm checking out…unofficially." I slipped out the window, remembering how to stretch my membrane like I had before. With a groan, I remembered a bit late that I'd just had a building fall on me. "Deal with it," I ordered myself. "We need an expert…" after a moment of thought, I murmured, "Drix. Uh…well, a sort-of expert, then." Turning quickly, I ran toward Shane's mouth, ignoring the jabs of pain in my legs.

Rubbing my sore knee, I stopped and leaned on a tooth. "Well, hey there, honey. What'cha doin' up here…all alone?" a sweet voice inquired. Like, a rot-your-teeth out sweet; not good. I spun around in surprise to find a female form sliding out of the shadows. She was a virus with purple skin, silvery hair, and a yellow claw. Her bright green eyes glowed eerily. "Recognize me?" At the blank look on my face, she scowled. "Of course none of you stupid American cells know anything about Ebola. You all think you're so safe here." Her voice softened. "But that's alright for now, honey. Because everyone will know in just a little while…especially with my new partner to help me."

I felt goose-bumps on my arms. _Just a little while? How long; an hour, a day, a week?_ Hiding my fear, I stood my ground. "Get out; you and your 'partner' don't stand a chance against Immunity."

The she-virus scoffed. "What _Immunity?_ This little girl doesn't have a hope in the world against Ebola _and_ the Red Death, honey." She sashayed over to me and tugged on a bit of my hair. "You poor, stupid girl," she said with a smirk. I pushed her hand away from me with disgust.

"The…what?" I felt dizzy. _No, it's not Thrax. He's a vaccine; he's with the good guys now. She means someone else._ "No. You're lying." But the virus just grinned evilly with a shrug. "Wait…we have time!" I muttered to myself. The she-virus turned to face me. "It takes about two weeks for a victim to die of Ebola; that's plenty of time to get Shane to a doctor!" I wasn't even paying attention to the virus, although I should have been.

There was suddenly pressure on my throat as she shoved me against the tooth with the flat edge of her claw. "You don't know me, honey. That information is outdated; I've…_evolved._ And with Thrax's help—you know him, don't you?—I can kill this weakling child in a matter of hours from now." I struggled to free myself, but the virus laughed and twisted her claw to tap me on the chin with the point of it. "You know how I can decay human tissue, decompose them while they are still alive? Don't you ever wonder how that would feel?" I gulped. "I can show you firsthand, if you want," she sneered.

"Zaire? Ugh, I thought I told you to stay hidden!" It was Thrax's voice. I felt a surge of anger; it was obvious from his words that he _was _working with this Zaire virus. "Who is that?" he asked randomly, seeming to notice me for the first time. In the dark, I guessed he couldn't see my face.

Zaire pushed me to the ground forcefully. "Just a meddling stranger. They couldn't do any harm to us anyway." Her claw flashed brighter and her eyes glinted with an evil satisfaction. "I was just getting ready to dispose of _it."_ As she brought her claw down at me, I tried something I'd never done; splitting in half. Not mitosis—that might have been less painful. Gritting my teeth with effort and pain, I ripped myself in half and slipped around Zaire, joining the halves back together behind her. "Huh?" Her composure was lost for a moment before she noticed me standing behind her. "How…? Ugh, just stand still!" She slashed at me wildly again, a crazy look in her eyes.

Despite the stinging, I ducked to the side and kicked at Zaire's shin. She grunted in pain and stepped back. As I started to climb up the side of a tooth, a hacking cough brought a gust of wind through the mouth. I flew into the air on an updraft and landed on top of the tooth. "Well, that makes _that_ easy," I said to myself.

"Where're _you_ going, honey?" Zaire's mocking voice came from behind me. _How did she make it up here so fast?_ I wondered in a panic. She grabbed my arms and hissed, "I'm starting to _really_ not like you." After a moment, she smiled at me. "So, I think I'll go ahead and let you leave." I carefully controlled my expression as a smile tried to lift the corners of my mouth. "Buh-bye, honey!" she called as she pushed me over the edge of the tooth. _This isn't what I had in mind! _

I felt myself land on something hard; a strand of hair. _Ow. But I bet it hurts less than hitting the ground._ As I looked up, trying to see if Zaire was still on the tooth, Shane raised her hand to brush the hair out of her face. "Oh, no. Oh, no! Shane! Don't do this!" I screamed as the hair was swept aside and I was knocked off. "That's right, it's beat up on Tibia day," I muttered as I tumbled onto Shane's hand. "At least I'm still alive. Maybe I should've listened to Ozzy; I won't be much help now anyway."

"Shane?" The voice belonged to Frank. I saw his hand reaching down toward Shane's forehead to see if she was feverish. _Come on, just grab her hand or something,_ I urged him mentally. _I need to get to you!_ Finally, Frank did what I was thinking. "Are you okay? Maybe we should get to a doctor." _Now, there's an idea. _I rolled my eyes as I jumped onto one of Frank's fingers. _Hasn't she been sick for a few days already? _As I looked for an opening, I suddenly realized I wasn't coagulating. That was weird; usually it happened quickly, and I'd been in the open air for a few minutes already. _This is a weird day._

Frank had a paper cut on his index finger large enough for me to get through. I could only hope Drix would be home; if he wasn't, I didn't know where to find him. Zaire's words played through my head. _I can kill this weakling child in a matter of hours from now. _And if Thrax was helping her… I shook my head. _I thought I could trust him. I don't know why I ever did—he's the reason for this whole mess! _

"Hey!" I shouted to a passing cell. She turned toward me in surprise, and I realized she looked familiar. _The girl from that newspaper—when Ozzy saved Frank the first time! Leah, I think?_ "Do you know a shortcut to the left eye?"

"Sorry, I only know the regular route…wait, do I know you? You look familiar." I raised an eyebrow, confused. We'd never actually met. "You almost look like that girl that died saving Frank…but—"

I cut her off. "Listen, I'd love to chat, but I've gotta find Drix! Shane has Ebola!"

Leah's eyes widened and she shook her head in bewilderment. "I have to tell Mayor Colonic," she whispered fearfully and turned without another word. As she ran in the other direction, I was left with a random thought; _What was the mayor's aid doing in Frank's finger, anyway?_ But I didn't have time to wonder about her actions, I remembered as I dashed toward the eyes. _It's a long way to go, and unfortunately, we don't have a long time to wait._

I pounded on the door to Ozzy and Drix's apartment. "Drix! Shane needs your help!" I shouted; I probably sounded like a mentally unstable person. A moment later the door opened, and Drix was looking at me in confusion. Before he had a chance to speak, I said, "Come on, we have to get back to Shane! You're the only one I know of that can help us."

"Do I know you?" Drix asked me slowly. "Because although you _do_ look familiar, I can't quite…" _Oh, yeah. I dyed and cut my hair, and it's probably my most prominent feature. Not to mention that I'm supposedly dead._

"Drix," I looked up at him. "Don't freak out…but I'm Tibia. I'm alive…but Shane won't be for long if you don't help!" I could feel the heat rising in me, as it always did when I was restless or emotional. I pulled on Drix's arm; he was just standing there, looking at me as he were in shock. "Come on!"

He blinked. "You're…turning orange," he informed me. I looked down; Drix was right, but I wasn't surprised. It happened a lot. I shrugged and continued pulling on his arm. "Ow, your body temperature is way above normal!"

I sighed. "Stop freaking out; it's been doing this for a while. I'm fine. Now are you coming with me?"

Drix looked up from my arm. "What did you say was wrong with Shane again?" he asked sheepishly as we took the elevator to the lobby. I explained everything quickly, and his eyes widened as he listened. "I didn't think Ebola was a problem in this country," he mused. "How am I supposed to help?" he demanded suddenly. "I'm a _cold_ pill; I don't know anything about Ebola except its death rate."

"And what's that?" I gulped nervously.

"Well, for this Zaire type, that would be…a ninety percent chance of death," Drix replied solemnly.

* * *

**I get the feeling that this chapter was kinda lame. :( But I couldn't think of anything to make it better, so unless I get a random burst of inspiration, this is it.**


	12. Note to readers

**I've been completely rewriting the prequel to this, called "Help me Remember," so I haven't been working on this story lately. I'm sorry for leaving it at this point. But I've gotten two chapters up of the other story (yay me -_- I'm making so much progress). And this one will probably change at least a little as a result. **

**Also, I am probably going to change my pen name to match my DeviantArt account; Diibling. So don't be all like "WTF" if you see a different name on my stories from now on. **

**Again, sorry for the wait and everything. :( I'm not dead! And I'm not giving up on this story, I promise! **


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